Oh Starry Night
by Shinoda Senshi
Summary: If Mark had one wish, just one, he'd wish his lover was more interested in him than some damn meteor shower. *Warning: Contains M/M slash*


**Oh Starry Night**

It was 2:38 in the morning and forty-four degrees Fahrenheit. Mark knew the exact time and temperature thanks to the advances of modern technology. Without such luxuries, he would have been left to assumptions and inaccuracies. As far as Mark was concerned, it was the middle of the fucking night and too damn cold to be standing around in his bare feet and pajamas.

Mark did not stand alone.

Jeff Hardy bounced on his toes, blanket clutched tight around his shoulders. When he wasn't grinning like a damn fool at Mark, he pointed his face skyward. "Isn't this amazing?"

What amazed Mark was that he was actually putting up with this madness. Somehow he had been talked out of his warm, soft, comfortable, warm bed and hauled out onto the back deck. The younger man beside him had cast his spell long ago. Mark knew better than to try and fight it. Once his Jeff had his heart set on something, nothing short of a world ending apocalypse got in his way.

Meteor showers, Jeff assured him, were a rare and wondrous occurrence. It would be unthinkable to miss one. Besides, Jeff had argued the second it looked like Mark would put up a fight, think of all the wishes they could make. With those hazel eyes practically sparkling at him with earnest desire, Mark was rendered powerless. Grumbling under his breath, he'd tossed back the covers, too sullen and crabby to give in to common sense and dress adequately for a night of stargazing.

Hands shoved into his armpits in an effort to keep them warm, Mark mumbled, "Freaking wonderful."

If he was lucky, he'd catch a cold or pneumonia and Jeff, overcome with guilt, would wait on Mark hand and foot. Nursing his ill lover back to good health.

Such wishes put into Mark's mind the image of his Jeff in a sexy nurse's outfit. Tight shirt, short skirt, and, if Mark was a good boy and ate all his chicken soup, white panties. Silken. Soft. Lacey. Barely enough material to properly cover that perky little ass. Just a hint of cheek peeking out of the bottom. Of course, his Jeff would bend over again and again, for no reason other than to flash Mark. Such a naughty, naughty nurse.

Such thoughts were sure to keep him warm. Already he could feel his face flushing, an influx of heat in his chest, belly, and down below. Suddenly the frigid temperatures didn't bother him.

"Did you know," said Jeff, "that the light we see from stars are coming from millions of miles away. Sometimes, by the time the light reaches Earth, that star has already died. We could be looking at stars that, technically, no longer exist anymore."

His Jeff could be quite philosophical when the mood struck.

"Those aren't actually shooting stars." Mark watched what equated to a hunk of space rock hurtle across the night sky. Sure was pretty, seeing them streak by. Not that he was about to admit that aloud.

Jeff elbowed him in the ribs before spreading open his blanket so they could share. "I know that. I was just making conversation. The mood called for it."

With his lover now in his personal space, Mark took full advantage. Wrapped his arms around the smaller man and held him flush against his body, not so much to keep warm as he liked being as close to Jeff as possible. "Are you trying to seduce me with space talk? Because I think it's working."

Wide eyes gazed up at him. Jeff's mouth hung open as Mark's hands roamed beneath the young Hardy's pajama bottoms.

"How are you… How can you… I don't even…" Jeff sputtered and stuttered. Struggling to pick out a single thought and give it the right of way. The finger that delved into the crack of his ass did not help his mental process. He gasped loudly, sucking in the cold night air. "Marcus, we are _outside!_"

Chuckling at the scandalized look on Jeff's face, he said, "Being outside wasn't my idea, buttercup. That was all you. And _this_ is all me." He pressed his hips forward, grinding his growing hardness against Jeff's stomach.

Somehow, Jeff's eyes grew even wider. He smacked Mark's broad chest with his hand. "The mysteries of the universe are unfolding around us and you're trying to get into my pants!"

That innocent act could only last so long. His Jeff was no shrinking violet. He only pretended to have delicate sensibilities when it worked in his favor. Mark knew good and damn well that the man had a dirty mind, a filthy mouth, and was not above using his sexy body to get his way. Once, on a whim, Jeff had sucked him off in the parking lot of an Olive Garden. In the middle of the afternoon. This was no blushing virgin standing before him.

"Correction," said Mark. "I am _already_ in your pants." A devious digit circled Jeff's hole. It took everything he had not to crow in triumph as a curse left his lover's lips. Mark didn't need the light of the moon or the stars to know that Jeff's pupils were blown wide. Years of experience told him that, as Jeff clutched at his shirt, his eyes were a thin ring of hazel around wide pools of black. The look of absolute lust. "Wonder if you're still wet inside."

Before Jeff could form a word of protest, Mark slid his finger into his lover's hole. Passed through the tight ring of muscle that, only hours earlier, had squeezed around his cock so sweetly.

"Oh my fucking god!" Jeff buried his head in Mark's chest. The fabric of his shirt barely muffled his moans. "You wicked son of a bitch. I hate you so fucking much."

A total lie. Jeff loved everything Mark did. Loved the way Mark would push him against the shower wall, jerking him off, rubbing both of their cocks together, soapsuds sliding between their bodies. Loved the way Mark used his lips and teeth to tease Jeff's nipples, a sweet torture that never failed to drive him absolutely out of his mind. Loved the way Mark whispered in his ear promises of unending devotion, declarations of Jeff being the sole owner of his heart as they made love.

"Still wet." Mark swirled his finger around, coating it in a mixture of lubricant and come. The slickness brought to mind the good time they'd had before falling asleep. Jeff riding his dick hard, nails digging across Mark's chest, the smell of sex filling the room. They fucked until the sweat poured down their skin and the headboard rattled with every bounce. A sweet way to end the evening.

Because of Jeff's intervention, the night was not over for them.

A second finger joined the first. Sinking down to the knuckle. Jeff bit his bottom lip in a foolhardy attempt to silence the groan Mark heard all too clearly. They each knew the others weakness. No matter the precautions taken, Jeff could not stay quiet. Mark took immense pleasure in being the cause of every audible moan. Jeff's voice was damn sexy. Especially when it was breaking and on the brink of begging. When he got like that, unable to even for the words to express what he needed, Mark could get away with murder.

"Drop you pants."

Jeff looked up at him as if he had lost his ever-loving mind. "There are certain _things_ that we cannot do on our back porch, Marcus."

He only got away with the Marcus remarks because Jeff Hardy was the first and only person capable of sucking the spunk straight from his balls.

Mark wiggled his fingers, grinning wide at the resulting clench of Jeff's muscles. After a short but vivid cursing streak, the pajama bottoms hit the deck. Only Mark's free hand held the blanket wrapped around them together.

"Buck up, buttercup." Mark leaned forward to kiss Jeff on the lips. "The wonders of space are being played before our very eyes and I'm gonna finger your ass until every man, woman, and child in this neighborhood knows that you sound like when you come."

That ought to teach the man to drag Mark out of his bed at o'dark-thirty.

Mark started slow, deep, deliberate strokes because he loved watching Jeff's eyelids flutter. That full bottom lip remained firmly tucked between his teeth. Evidence of Jeff's silent protest. No matter. Mark didn't mind. In the end, if Jeff wanted any type of release, he would have to give in.

Years together had given Mark intimate knowledge of his lover's body. He knew where to touch. How to curve his fingers. Knew the exact amount of pressure needed to make Jeff's knees buckle.

A wicked twist of Mark's fingers had that lip popping from between Jeff's teeth. Standing on the tips of his toes, Jeff rocked himself against Mark's body. Rubbing his erection across every inch he could reach. Grasping hands clawed at the front of Mark's shirt, fisting the material.

"You have the fingers of a god," Jeff panted, "and I hate your fucking guts so don't you dare stop."

His Jeff was a complicated man when it came to his emotions.

"I make you feel _so good_, don't I?" Mark could not say he wasn't the type of man to gloat because that would be a flat out lie. Not that he was against lying in the first place. Mark loved gloating as much as he loved Jeff Hardy. He loved making Jeff come undone and then carefully picking up the pieces. He loved feeling Jeff rut against him, desperate for the friction that, coupled with the fingers working in and out of his ass, would push him over the edge. "Better than any goddamn meteor shower."

As far as he was concerned, the mysteries of the universe were best left to the contemplation of others. With the love of his life bare bottomed and bucking against his fingers, practically fucking himself and grinding as hard as possible, the moon could fall out of the sky and Mark couldn't be bothered.

"More." Jeff licked his lips, the rocking of his hips not stopping for a second. "Come on. Gimme more. _Faster!_"

Mark gave him faster. The increased rhythm had him mewling like a cat in heat. His voice carried in the still night air. Not loud enough to wake the neighbors. Not yet. So Mark added another finger. Stretching and filling Jeff almost to his limit. He was so damn tight Mark was nearly worried about hurting him.

From the words tumbling from Jeff's mouth, Mark surmised his lover felt no pain.

"_Oh my fucking god, jesus fucking Christ, that's it, like that, fuck me like that, holy fucking shit, fuck me!_"

Smiling because he was pretty damn proud of himself, Mark asked, "Do you kiss your brother with that mouth?"

Jeff actually growled. "I don't give a fuck, just keep fucking going." He eyes rolled back in his head. "Mother of God, I wanna fucking _marry_ you!"

Mark could imagine the elder Hardy's face upon receiving that invitation. Livid red with a smattering of seasick green.

Tossing aside the pretense of decency, Mark dropped the blanket. If anyone in the house across from them was so inclined to peek out of the back window at that particular moment, they would be treated to a view of Jeff in the throes of passion and Mark with three fingers deep in his lover's ass.

The idea had been to make Jeff come from fingering alone. It was better to watch Jeff hump him like a horny teenager. Even better than that was taking Jeff in his free hand and jerking him in time with the fingers thrusting in his ass.

Words failed. All Jeff could do was gasp and groan and shake. He held onto Mark for dear life. Clung to him as the tremors overtook him. Making Jeff come was more beautiful than any sunset anyplace in the world. More spectacular than the birth of a star. It beat the meteors flashing overhead by a mile.

Humming in satisfaction, Jeff drifted back down to Earth. He rested his head on Mark's chest and wrapped his arms around Mark's waist. "You are the most amazing man on the face of the planet."

It took some maneuvering to pull open the sliding glass door and kick the fallen blanket into the house. In his sated state, Jeff was against moving. Mark wondered if he'd have to carry the man across the threshold. Even if he did, it was definitely worth it to have Jeff so contentedly plastered against him. It was the little things in life that made it more enjoyable.

"So tell me, buttercup." Mark stroked Jeff's bare bottom. "Did I make you see stars?"

**END**


End file.
